Page 18 of Can't Get No Satyrfaction

She reached out, her fingertips brushing his arm. He tensed, but didn’t pull away. Slowly, he turned back to face her and she lifted her hand to his jaw, tracing the line of his beard as those luminous green eyes focused on her face.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and kissed him.

At first she just brushed her lips against his in a gentle exploration. He stiffened at first, clearly caught off guard by her boldness, but then he shuddered and leaned into the kiss, deepening it.

His hand found its way to her waist, pulling her closer until she could feel the warmth of his body against hers. She sighed with pleasure and arched into his touch, teasing his tongue with hers as the kiss grew deeper, hotter. Need coiled in her stomach as her hands roamed across those wide shoulders and down his arms. He pulled her onto his lap, and she gasped into his mouth as her body settled against his and his hands slid down her spine, holding her closer against the thickness of his erection. Her fingers tangled in the soft silk of his hair before curling around the base of his horns.

He groaned, but then he pulled away from the kiss. They stared at each other, both of them breathing rapidly, chests heaving. Her whole body was alive with sensation, her nipples taut and swollen, her clit pulsing in a low demanding rhythm, but then he lifted her off his lap and stood up.

“You should get some sleep,” he said, his voice rough as he pointed at the shelter. “We should get an early start tomorrow.”

She sighed, but nodded, not entirely surprised by his withdrawal.

“Will you join me?”

He shook his head, still not looking at her. “I don’t sleep inside.”

“Of course not.” She rose and headed for the shelter. When she reached it, she looked back over her shoulder and saw his eyes were fixed on her. “Good night, Thorn. Sweet dreams.”

CHAPTER 9

Thorn woke to an unfamiliar warmth pressed against his chest. His eyes snapped open as Sylvie’s tantalizing scent washed over him. She’d curled into him during the night, her head tucked beneath his chin, auburn hair spilling across his arm. One of her small hands rested on his chest. His arm was wrapped around her and he could feel the slow, steady rhythm of her breathing against him.

Bront’s big body was sprawled on the floor next to them, his three heads snoring in different pitches—a discordant lullaby that should have been ridiculous. Instead, something deep in his chest ached.

Perfect. The word sliced through him, sharp and dangerous. The way she fit against the curve of his body, how her legs had twined with his during the night, the peaceful trust in her sleeping face—it felt right in a way nothing had for years.

His heart pounded, the sensation of her body molded to his sending heat racing through his veins. He should wake her, untangle himself from her, but instead he lay motionless, unwilling to break the unexpected contact. It had been so longsince he’d been this close to anyone. So long since he’d allowed himself to feel anything beyond anger and guilt.

She murmured something in her sleep and snuggled closer, her small breasts rubbing tantalizingly against his side. His arm tightened around her before he could stop himself, and he closed his eyes, fighting a wave of longing. He shouldn’t want her. Couldn’t want her. But with every second that passed, that resolve grew weaker. He bit back a groan as his body responded to her proximity. His cock pressed painfully against his sheath as her hand trailed down his chest and stomach to brush against the soft fur of his lower half.

The touch was light, innocent, but it set his blood on fire. He wanted her, gods, how he wanted her. He’d tried to deny it, but there was no escaping it now, not with her nestled in his arms like she belonged there. Not when her sweet scent wrapped around him, tempting and intoxicating.

He took a slow, steadying breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He had to get away from her, had to clear his head and remember who she was—a human, someone who would only bring trouble and pain. Someone he couldn’t afford to care for.

But when he tried to slip out of her embrace, she only burrowed closer. He froze, afraid to move, afraid to stay. The rise and fall of her chest against his sent heat spiraling through him. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, his entire being focused on the places where her body touched his. One small leg rested over his thigh, leaving him achingly aware of her softness, her openness. His hand was already covering her hip—how easy it would be to let it slip lower, to seek the hidden warmth between her legs…

She made a contented sound and her hand roamed over him, brushing across the fur covering his bulging sheath. His hipsjerked and he bit back a groan, barely managing to keep his cock sheathed. She was going to be the death of him. Every instinct screamed at him to roll her beneath him, to claim her mouth, to bury himself inside her until they were both senseless and sated.

No.He clenched his jaw, fighting the primal urge that pulsed through him, demanding he take her, make her his. He wouldn’t do that to her, or to himself. This was not her world. She would leave him.

Her hand was still moving, flexing against his stomach now, nails scratching lightly at his skin, and he couldn’t suppress a shudder at the sensation. Her touch was driving him mad.

He never should have joined her in the shelter. When he’d sent her off to sleep in the shelter alone, he’d half-expected, half-hoped for another of her challenges. Instead she’d just slipped away, leaving him alone outside, restless and confused.

He’d always seen the world in black and white. After what had happened to his sister, humans were bad, evil and destructive. His nephew’s human mate had introduced the first hint of grey to those views, but Sylvie—Sylvie had turned everything he knew upside down. She made him question everything.

Then she’d whimpered in her sleep and he could no more resist going to her than he could resist breathing. She’d been tossing restlessly and he’d instinctively pulled her into his arms. She’d quieted immediately, settling against him with a contented sigh. He should have left, but the feel of her in his arms had shattered his resolve.

Just for tonight, he’d told himself. One night wouldn’t change anything.

But holding her felt like coming home to a place he hadn’t known he’d lost. Her warmth seeped into the cold spaces within him, spaces he’d convinced himself didn’t exist. He’d buried himself in his duties as Guardian, in protecting the Elderwood from those who would harm it. He’d never considered himself lonely.

Yet here she was, this tiny human female, making him question everything he thought he knew about himself. About his life. About what he wanted.

I want her.

He couldn’t deny the truth, not when he was so painfully aware of the way her body fit against his, the softness of her curves pressed to the hardness of his muscles. Her leg shifted, rubbing tantalizingly against him and making his mind cloud with need.

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